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I'm a writer of satire with a passion for politics and jousting at the windmills of intolerance, ignorance and bitching about life in general. I'm devoted to the spread of truth, equality and laughter. And yes, there's some personal gray matter here as well. I write about my life, the life and ironies of those around me. It's not always pretty and I make no apologies for that.

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Archive for February, 2008

Okay, that pithy observation was written by Seth. Yeah, stand aside Walt Whitman, his talents as a wordsmith know no bounds.

He does, however, have a good point…albeit in a Romper Room sort of way.

Last weekend after bowling, he and I went over to Scott’s house because bowling had ended sooner than normal, and none of us were ready to go to bed. So Scott tells us he’s got a new game that he’s been dying to try out.

Note: We’re kinda dorks and love to play games. And since none of us has a usable set of Chutes and Ladders, we figured what the hell.

If you’re not familiar with Apples To Apples, it’s sort of a word association game.You are dealt seven cards with random words, names and places on each. Someone draws a different kind of card, reads off the word on it and everyone is supposed to choose – from their hand of seven cards – the word they think most closely defines or matches that word.

I know what you’re thinking…”BO-RING!!!” Not so. Especially when you twist the rules a bit and try not to be all Wikipedia with it. We like to put a little flair (not to mention sick twisted flair) into it.

It’s Seth again…

They wouldn’t have known how you’re supposed to play it if it wasn’t for me. And when I say supposed, I mean the more fun way to play! Instead of suiting the best word to the word read aloud, I told them to just choose a word that makes no sense. For example…

The word:Naughty

A card from your hand such as:Rhino or Yellow Fever

You just choose the most random card or something completely opposite. It makes the game go by slower, only because of interjected laughter, but it’s more fun.

My cousin and I had this game. When I was living with her, we would have people over ALL the time to play this. We turned it into a drinking game. Whoever didn’t win that round had to drink. Needless to say we went through beer pretty damn fast! Also, to change it up, we would take the blank cards in the deck and write on them whatever we wanted. You can also do this with cards that are already printed. For example…

The word:Monty Python

You rewrite:My MontyPython sized dick.

You get the gist. When you play it like this, it makes it very interesting. Use your own humor or things that are funny to only you and your friends.

It’s Daniel again…Seth!! What did I tell you about typing naughty words on my fucking blog?!?!

So anyways…

Apparently we loved playing this game so much, that that shut-in telecommuter Scott has begun the email version of this game with Seth and I. I won the first round, so it was my turn to give the word.. I chose Antidisestablishmentarianism…you know, to keep it interesting and lighthearted.

No one’s responded to that one yet.

Hmmm…

So, if you’re into playing games (and I don’t mean the internet mind games), this one comes highly recommended.

There is no doubt about it, things change. Whatever your feelings, for good or ill, daily life is fluid.

Sometimes it turns out to be for the better. And there are times when we just can’t escape the shitty side of it.

I recently found myself to be teetering at the cusp of just such a shitty side. From my vantage point it appeared to be the edge of an impossibly high cliff.

We were not happy. And we’d been lying to ourselves for far too long in order to cover up that fact. Worst of all, we had – by way of painting on daily smiles – been lying to everyone around us. Not that we were trying to fool anyone or each other. But the bottom line was that living your life merely for the sake of what others or your significant other might think is wrong. No matter how much you care.

This isn’t some sob and whine story here, but rather my way of ‘coming out’ with a truth that’s been staring us in the face for a couple of years now.

Our “marriage” is over. Has been for a long time, and yet neither my better half nor I have been able (or wanting) to admit it. Perhaps due to the fact that we still love one another very deeply. Or maybe it’s because we don’t want to let everyone around us down. It is also a possibility that we have just grown so comfortable with living as a couple in suburbia that we are too afraid of the inevitable separation that loomed on the horizon. After all, what would the neighbors think??

I don’t know if it’s one or all of the above.

Now, there’s no way I’m going to dish out the exact reasons for this deeply unhappy set of circumstances in which I found myself. Nor can I assign blame. Suffice it to say it wasn’t anything as sordid as either of us cheating, or any other Lifetime Channel movie theme. Sometimes, pumpkins, it just doesn’t work and the only thing left to do is salvage and/or cherish the friendship you still have.

For those who just have to know…NO, it didn’t and still doesn’t involve a third party. So get your mind out of the Jackie Collins mode.

Bottom line is that it takes two people to make something work and it takes two to fuck it up. Lawd knows he had his hands full with putting up with my mountain of mental “isms”. Not to mention my off-and-on health issues. I’ve never claimed to be a rose garden…but then, I never promised to give one either. But I sure as hell tried. And to a greater extent, so did he.

Sorry, that sounded pissy, didn’t it? Wasn’t meant that way.

As I sit here writing this, I’m looking outside at the lightly-blowing winds that are whipping through the now-bare trees. The nipple-hardening cold winds. This always reminds me of that period of stasis that nature must endure just before it’s inevitable renewal. Spring is just around the corner. Three of the three billion grass seeds we spread on the lawn will, as usual, begin to grow and make that square inch of lawn look fantastic. That thought always gave me a thrill. After all, that’s just before the rain of the maple seeds and the joust between them and Steve Quixote.

Unfortunately, that just wasn’t a smile I could paint on this year. Didn’t matter how much I’d like to, it just was not in me.

I didn’t want to hurt him. I knew that no matter what I said to him or even how I said it, he was going to be crushed. As I said earlier, I think even he knew we’d just been going through the motions. And goodness knows he’s threatened to end it (or words to that effect) on more than one occasion. But when push came to shove, my biggest fear was that he was not going to take the reality of the end at all well.

Here’s one of the reasons I felt unhappy. In order to avoid hurting him with divorce, I’d only been prolonging the inevitable by being a coward. I’d lived this lie…wait, not so much a lie…mainly not wanting to accept reality myself. But a lie of omission is, in itself, still a lie.

So, just what was it that we were so afraid of when it came to ending this? Well, let me break it down for you:

1) Hurting each other.The emotional investment alone was going to be hard to sever. He was going to think it’s so damned easy for me to do this because I would want to remain calm and ‘together’. After all, one of us would have to be.

2) Family/Friends Since his family mostly lives pretty local (mine are all in CA), I’ve been part of that family by extension for the past 6+ years. There are also the shared friends. We have so many and something like this always seems to place them in the awkward position of having to “choose”. Obviously, we aren’t the type of people who want anyone to have to choose who to invite to what at what time without offending the other. Been there…done that. Sucks for everyone no matter what.

3) Home & Hearth Not ranking as high as the emotional investment, but still something to consider, the material investments (as well as all those legal documents we’d signed) do tend to build up over the years. Personally I’d rather avoid the whole “What is mine and what is yours?” scenario. Of course, this is where divorces tend to get nasty. The division of ‘things’. Ugh!! Not to mention the house itself. Obviously it will be me moving. And I’d hope he’d decide to keep the place, as we’ve put an awful lot of work into it.

4) Community CommitmentsNot only will I lose my presidency of the homeowners association since I will no longer be living in this subdivision, but, depending on where I move to, could also lose my commission with the city (if I end up living in a different district).

5) PetsWho gets the kids? Well, since three of the four were his before we got together, those will remain with him. Only one will be in contention. We’ll see what happens there.

Don’t misunderstand my intentions about listing the above. We haven’t reached that particular stage just yet. These were simply things both of us had, at one point or another, had to have go through our minds while rationalizing all of this.

I don’t want all of the above to sound trite. Nor do I want it to sound like anything but #1 ranks as a priority with me. For the past six plus years he’s been my life. And he always will be a great and special part of my life.

But in the final analysis, what’s living without feeling alive?

At the risk of plagiarizing Beyonce, I wasn’t at home in my own home. That had been my feeling for a couple of years and no amount of talking or trying had changed that. But in many ways, I know he felt the same.

So, what happens now?

I want to live. I want him to live. And we have time in each of our lives to do that.

I think it’s time.

So, where do we go from here? I suppose we could just part ways and that would be that, but we didn’t part that way. We discussed this and decided it didn’t have to be such an abrupt end – in every way – to so many years of what we did share. Besides, it’s not like we ended all “War of the Roses” or some shit like that. In truth, it bloody well is possible to live as friend. It’s easy to think that two people who end the “marriage” chapter can’t live together. We’re adults. We continue to cherish what we do feel as friends.

As I said earlier, we still care for and about one another and aren’t willing to toss the friendship we share. It’s just a new chapter in our lives. Granted, eventually we will begin separate lives eventually. That’s’ just another natural stage in this sort of thing. But we’re not there (yet).

If anything, lately we’ve both been in much better moods and FAR better around each other in our daily interactions than we have in years. That, as it were, is that. If nothing else, seeing Steve smile as he has lately has made it all worth it. Because in the final analysis, that’s all that really mattered.

So, while there will, I’m sure, be the random update on this, I’ll wrap this one up for now.

If you hadn’t noticed, we’ve been a little slow in posting. There is a good reason for this. It’s our new jobs. They’re time consuming and tiring. There’s not much to speak of with my job. I sort claims and assemble information for the insured and potential clients. That’s about it. Unfortunately, we haven’t heard much about Daniel’s job. I, by choice, ask him every day how his day was. So, I hear about it all the time.

It’s a very interesting job. It’s something new every day. He works with very interesting people, but it’s a high stress job. Again, because of his job, he doesn’t really have the time to sit and tell all about it. So, I’m taking the liberty to get more in-depth for everyone, I thought I would put together this little Q&A for him. Wasn’t that nice of me!

Q. What is your professional title and how does this job differentiate from you last job?A: Payroll and Accounts Payable Administrator. It’s different from my last crappy job because the last job was just that…crap. It did have one benefit, though, it was VERY physical, so I stayed pretty much in shape. Now that I’m I’m an Administrator, I fully expect my ass to become big and flat in no time.

Q. What are your day-to-day duties?A. Well, since this is a “Special Care” facility for folks who need to remain heavily medicated 24/7, I have very close contact to the residents. One of the many responsibilities of my job require my office to serve as the resident’s bank. This means that by law, my office must remain open-door so that the residents can come in and withdraw money for their everyday needs. Also, I handle the payroll for over 300 people, from entry-level to top Administrator. Add to this all of Accounts Payable. Stir in a hefty amount of Corporate stress, a pinch of Regional anal retention, mix violently and serve over a nice fresh bed of steamed Thorazine. A nice chilled Chablis goes well with this.

Q. Were you ever afraid this was not a real job, but a plot by your “loved ones” to let you be with your own kind?A. I’ll admit, it WAS a bit on the too-good-to-be-true side. And while I’d like to oblige my “loved ones”, they’ll have to wait until the padded room’s paint job is finished.

Q. How does it feel to scream at retards all day?A. I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT!!! I DON’T SCREAM!!! I NEVER SCREAM!!! AND WE DON’T CALL THEM RETARDS!!! WE PREFER TO CALL THEM “FAMILY”!!!

Q. Job or Career?A. That all depends on how long it takes them to drive ME crazy. There are times I find myself wondering…”Are these people just the dredges of society (as they would have you believe), or are they actually all former employees who just fucking LOST it during their training and orientations?

Q. So…tell us about the Grim Reaper.A. PAM!! Or as I’ve come to yell when she nears…”SCRAM!!!” Yeah, I started calling this woman the Grim Reaper because she works on the Corporate side in Ohio. She only shows up in person when someone is getting fired. I’ve watched her “walk” down the halls, and I swear her feet never touch the floor. She just sort of glides. She seems to get pretty moist when she gets to open her black robes, wield her sickle and lop off the hopes of job security.

Q. How does it feel to have the power to fire someone?A. I’m SO Donald Trump…but with more charm, good looks, better breath (really, I’ve smelled his…too much money apparently rots your teeth and harbors halitosis), FAR better hair and I can say “You’re Fired” without a lisp.

Q. Where do you see yourself going with this job?A. Insane.

Well, that was…interesting. Hopefully, Daniel will be able to sit down and write a post of his own about this job. He really seems to like it there. He will have PLEANTY of chances to vent on all you readers. I know I can’t wait to read more about his new job.

What is it with Valentines Day? Why do so many people expect to give or receive something “special” that one-day of the year? Why do people get upset when they don’t get something they want or anything at all?

Honestly, I think it’s a really bad reason to show someone you love them. Yeah, it’s the one day out of the year that everyone can show love, affection, or whatever, but what about the other 364 days of the year? Did Christmas eat them too? I just don’t understand the reason in singling out one day out of the year to show someone you love or care about them.

What ever happened to surprising your S.O. with something special on any random day of the year? Are people too busy or lazy to take away from their busy schedules to do something out of the ordinary? As far as Valentines Day goes, some would say, “Well, it’s a holiday” or “It’s a special day.” No, I’m sorry, but it’s not. It looks an awful lot like a scheme meant to sell stuff no one really needs.

“Happy Valentines Day honey! I got you a pretty dust collector!”

All Valentine’s Day is about is commercialism and merchandising. When you think about it, it really doesn’t show love at all! There is always the anniversary.

I do feel bad for some people though. Thanks to TV, radio, billboards, and whatever else, singles are constantly reminded that they are single! It’s like going to the bars and seeing your friends and everyone else paired up isn’t enough.

Just a side note, those of you who taunt or imply to your other half to buy something for you, come down off the “holiday” high a little. It’s not the end of the world if you don’t get a pretty little gift. Just because you don’t get something, or get your other half something, doesn’t mean love isn’t there. Don’t base your feelings, or the other persons, on lame day that’s owned by Wal Mart.

The same goes for April Fools Day! Why not screw with someone EVERY day of the year? I am a FIRM believer in being a prankster every day. Like Valentines Day is with love, we shouldn’t set aside one day to be a hideously grotesque to one another for April Fools Day!

I just wanted to write a little this morning. I know that I’ve been lazy lately. At first, I could just blame the lazy part on my new job, but not that just seems stupid and lazy.

Over the past month or two I’ve been following, with much interest, the Democratic campaigns and, like many, have found myself suddenly bored with the whole process. Delegates vs. Super Delegates. Hillary vs. Obama.

Yawn.

Maybe it’s that it’s been such a long campaign season. Maybe I’m just campaigned out. And If I get one more call from Obama’s campaign office I’m going to lose it.

I finally had to tell the nice old lady on the other end of the unsolicited phone call that I’m voting for Hillary…mostly because she’s left me alone!!!

And today’s Valentines Day.

Whoop-te-friggin’-do.

Don’t get me wrong, I love the holiday of love and all, but again, new job and all, it’s been hard to wrap my mind around much of the going’s-on in the world. Gotten so bad with the fuzzy-mind thing that I’ve gone back to bowling as a sort of mental and physical release.

Yeah, and I’ve just read over this and can see just how fuzzy it really is. Much like this post, my head is all over the place.

Anyway, so I go to buy something for Steve for VD. While fighting my way into the card isle, I notice the pickin’s are pretty slim. So, scanning over the left-overs my eyes naturally fix on something cartoonish that, when you read the front and open it and read the rest, has an actual big red balloon taped inside as the punchline.

I thought it said a lot, but the obvious double entendre sort of washed that out. I also tried to avoid all those cutsie little VD plush toys that sing, or the scented candles blah-blah-blah. I think they actually make that shit to be specifically tossed into the future garage sale bins!!

So I bought him a CD set with all the classic theme songs from all the big movies. Sounds stupid, I know, but he really does like that kinda thing and I wanted it to be nice for him.

After all, he actually got me a heart-shaped box of chocolates and a NICE card. Very Valentine’s Day-ish.

Tell me what I’m doing wrong here. Am I becoming too cynical?

Well anyways…Happy Valentine’s Day to you all. And I mean that with all my heart.

So this evening after work, Seth and I decide to treat ourselves and Steve to some good old heart healthy dinner. Naturally we head to KFC for a biggo bucket of artery-clogging original recipe love. It’s Friday night…fuck the diet we never stick to anyway.

What never ceases to amaze me is all the goofy shit that seems to happen to either us or, as in the case that follows, me.

I order our tried and true 12-piece with three sides (mac & cheese, mashed taters and gravy and potato wedges, for those of you who just had to know), and biscuits.

Now, while the fetus behind the counter who took our order was busy picking up two dropped chicken wings (that went into someone else’s order, thank Jeebus), I happen to notice the total of my purchase.

Hmmm. Almost three dollars less (including taxes) than the item was supposed to be priced.

When I noticed he’d given me a SENIOR DISCOUNT I was so horrified that I almost fell over my walker.

This little Brittany Spears superfan wannabe sees a mouth full of perfect teeth and a couple of gray hairs and suddenly he thinks I need help walking myself across the street!!

Now granted, I am 44, but give this future curmudgeon a small fucking break!!!! It ain’t like I’m standing there pooping in my depends or dropping my teeth in their crappy chocolate iced cake. Okay, so I did fart while I was in line…but it wasn’t as though dust flew outta my ass.

Anyhoo…a few hours later and I’ve sucked some chicken bones so clean they, like me (apparently) look like fossils.

So, to the recently un-wombed placenta breathed arse tard behind the counter at our local KFC I just want to say thanks for the great meal…and no hard feelings.

Far too often, everyday life consumes us and we forget the important things in life. We stress out about every little thing, we take advantage of the little, important things, we forget how to have fun, and we even for get how to say I love you to someone.

We keep ourselves so busy and involved with work or whatever, our relationships can easily die. Loved ones, friends, partners, husbands, wives, whoever, they eventually lose touch with each other. It really is a sad thing to see and go through.

I’ve always tried to help others, if allowed to. I hate seeing a failed relationship. So, in one of my little ways of trying to help out, I’ve gathered a list of 23 little ways to tell someone you love them. Try some, or all, of them and see what happens.

GOOD LUCK!

Ex: Your underwear in their car seat or a dirty picture of yourself in their briefcase (where others won’t see but you know they will).